


The Captain's Mate

by Nuinzilien



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Erestor has issues...but we all know that, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 11:01:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nuinzilien/pseuds/Nuinzilien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glorfindel's young apprentice is learning much more than just the ways of war and the blade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Captain's Mate

**Author's Note:**

> The elves aren't mine, sadly

Thranduil would be the first to admit that he had been remarkably blessed when it came to his offspring. They were generous of heart, mild-tempered, and mercifully obedient.

Usually.

He sat back in his chair, watching as the mildest of his children, his sweet Green Leaf, paced his study, throwing a royal temper tantrum. “Really, Legolas, are we not overreacting a bit?”

“I have every right to be!” Legolas all but roared. “This is YOUR alliance, and yet I am the one being thrown out of my home to live with complete strangers, in a strange land with undoubtedly NO trees within miles! I think I have the right to react however I choose.”

“Legolas,” Thranduil’s tone held a note of warning, indicating that even his not-inconsiderable patience had begun to grow thin. “Rivendell is hardly a strange land in the midst of nowhere. They are Elves.”

“Aye, but a different sort of elf. Half-elves, and Noldorin half-elves at that.”

“Been dining with your grandfather, have you?”

“He lets me have a glass of whatever he is drinking at the time, which is yet another thing that will change! What if they do not have any of the same foods? Or the same customs, or even speak the same language? Ada, do not force me to do this. Please?”

Steadfastly ignoring the parental urge to call off the entire deal, Thranduil instead took comfort in the instinct telling him that, for good or ill, this was as it should be.

He took a deep breath. “Prince Legolas, you will be leaving for the Last Homely House in 3 days. I suggest you use the time to make peace with the situation and bid a temporary farewell to your friends.”

Legolas bowed his head, having lost. The use of his title had made the transfer all but a royal decree. He would be leaving in 3 days, whether he went voluntarily, or was dragged there, kicking and screaming.

“As my king wills it,” he responded in kind.

***

Three weeks and three days later, Legolas rode along the rocky trail that led to the front court of the Last Homely House of Elrond Peredhel. Though he would never admit it to anyone save himself, Legolas had been pleasantly surprised, and even a little impressed, with Rivendell’s defenses. Far from the lazy, complacent elves his grandfather had described, his new (but temporary!) home seemed to be preparing for war.

// Interesting,// Legolas thought as he watched a messenger run past. // Even their internal messengers carry weapons. Lord Elrond is said to have an uncanny ability to predict the future. I wonder if he knows something we do not?//

Vowing to investigate further when he had settled in, Legolas straightened in his saddle and steered his mount toward the lone dark haired, dark robed elf standing on the wide staircase leading to the door. From the cut of the robes, he was being met by an advisor.

// Definitely not home anymore…// Were he in Mirkwood, a highly placed visiting dignitary like himself would have been met by a member of the royal family, if not the king himself.

Unnerved by the black-haired advisor’s piercing eyes, Legolas dismounted. “Mae govannen. I am –“

“Late.”

Legolas blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“As well you should. Such blatant disrespect for another’s time may be the way of things in Mirkwood, Prince Legolas, but it is unacceptable in Imladris. We have better things to do than wait on your spoiled highness.”

“I will endeavor to keep that in mind,” Legolas replied, trying hard not to put the advisor in his place. // This must be Erestor, then. Grandfather was right when he said this one was as frigid as the Helcaraxe.//

“See that you do. Follow me.” Erestor turned on the steps.

“But my ho-“

“Your mount will be seen to, and your belongings brought to your living quarters, now hurry up. He does not like to have his routine disrupted.”

Legolas stifled his sigh and followed in silence, only to break it minutes later. “Councillor Erestor?”

“What?”

“May I ask why that fresco was never finished?”

Erestor gave him a puzzled look, turned to the artwork in question, and grunted. “Because it is.” He continued down the hall.

Legolas sighed and followed. This was going to be one very long exile…

***

Glorfindel stepped into his room and stopped, blinking. He then peeked back into the hall to be certain he had the correct room. It LOOKED like his room… but the young blond elf sleeping in his bed certainly wasn’t his.

Half expecting someone to jump out and call shenanigans, he shut the door quietly and padded silently over to the bed. Well, if he had to find a stranger in his bed, this one was certainly no hardship to look upon.

// Pervert, he’s barely more than an elfling.// Sighing, he nudged the sleeping elf’s foot.

Legolas woke, blinking up at the prettiest male he’d ever seen. // Oh, blessed Valar…// He sat up. “Hello…”

Glorfindel stepped back and cleared his throat. “Hello. Can I help you find your rooms? That’s my bed you’re sleeping in.”

Legolas blinked. “YOU are the one I am apprenticing to?”

Glorfindel rubbed at his neck. He’d completely forgotten about Elrond’s insane idea. “Aye. I apologize for not being here when you arrived. I was called away unexpectedly.”

Legolas nodded and stretched. “Understandable. “

Glorfindel went about making tea, occasionally casting glances over his shoulder. “Your accent is familiar, though I cannot place it. Where are you from?”

“Greenwood.”

“Ahhhh… I’m surprised your king sent anyone. Mirkwood’s dislike for all things Noldorin is well known.”

Legolas smiled. “With all due respect, you are mistaken. My Grandfather’s dislike for all things Noldorin is well known. Unless the experience is sprung on them at the last moment, the rest of the royal family is more open-minded.”

“So what is your name, young Prince?”

“Legolas, my Lord.”

“Captain.”

Legolas blinked. “Pardon?”

“I prefer to be called Captain.”

“Then that is what I will call you.”

***

After that first, awkward meeting, master and apprentice fell into a comfortable routine. Though he missed the familiar faces of his home, Legolas gradually adjusted to quick-paced hum and buzz of life in Rivendell.

He tied off his last stitch, placing the thick leather jerkin on the side table. “Captain?”

Glorfindel looked up from his parchment. “Aye?”

“Is Rivendell at war?”

He frowned. “Nay, why would you think that?”

“Well, it just seems as though the militia is on an abnormally high alert. I noticed it when I rode in, too. Your defenses speak of paranoia.”

Glorfindel snorted. “Even we must be on guard.”

Legolas gave him a puzzled look. “Why? Does not your Lord’s ring keep his realm safe?”

Glorfindel sneered. “Ring of Power or no, we do not depend on a piece of metal to keep our home safe. You would do well to remember that.”

Legolas bowed his head. “I will.”

***

Over the next decade, Legolas learned many things about himself and those around him.

His encounters with Erestor never improved. Every word he said seemed to set the councilor off and earn himself a merciless tongue-lashing. To Legolas’ further puzzlement, he was the ONLY elf catching the full brunt of Erestor’s ire. The servants and other members of Elrond’s household all but sang Erestor’s praises, Glorfindel’s voice being the loudest of them all.

In Glorfindel, Legolas had found a skilled warrior and commander, an ever-patient instructor, and a fascinating mystery. His standards for himself and those he commanded were high, his reprimands swift, and his judgments fair.

He was generous to a fault. Kind words and helping hands were doled out with a startling lack of bias, whether it was lifting a heavy piece of furniture for the scullery maid, soothing a frightened elfling through a summer storm, or taking an extra hour or so in the evening to correct his apprentice’s woefully inferior skill with the sword.

Legolas sighed as the tip of Glorfindel’s blade touched his neck. “I yield,” he said for seemingly the hundredth time that night. His eyes followed the sword up to his sweaty, grinning Captain, a devious plan hatching. “You win. Again.”

Glorfindel snorted and propped his sword against the wall, reaching a hand down to help his apprentice to his feet. “Aye, I win. But your skills are improving. You lasted lo-“ He squawked inelegantly as Legolas’ foot planted itself in his stomach and tossed him backside over head. He landed with a mighty thud, eyes wide in shock.

Extremely proud of his quick thinking, Legolas towered over his mentor, hands on his hips. “Well, Captain, it is about time our positions were reversed. What do you think?”

Glorfindel blinked. “I think…” He lashed out, sending the startled Legolas tumbling onto his chest. “I think my apprentice needs to work on his follow through.” He rolled, pinning the younger elf to the floor. “If you are going to change the rules of engagement, my apprentice, you should be prepared for your enemy to respond in kind.”

Legolas was blushing scarlet. “A-aye, Captain.”

Puzzled by his apprentice’s reaction, Glorfindel moved to get up. // Ahhh… poor child.// He grounded himself and reached down to help Legolas stand.

Once Legolas was on his feet, his Captain took pity on him. “I find that a nice, quiet bath helps.”

Legolas turned, his cheeks as red as Elrond’s favorite robe. “What?”

Glorfindel’s eyes slanted down to the bulge ruining the smooth lines of the poor elf’s leggings. He sighed as Legolas’ cheeks flushed brighter. “Legolas, there is no shame in your body’s reaction to adrenaline. We all experience it, and you are of an age.”

Legolas’ hands fidgeted uselessly. “So what should I do then?”

“Take a quiet bath and relax. It should subside after a while. When you are finished, you may ask me any questions you may have.”

“Aye, Captain.” Legolas gathered his bathing materials and headed for the door.

Glorfindel’s hands were gentle as they guided him to a hidden door. He chuckled softly at Legolas’ surprise. “Lord Elrond had all sorts of secrets built into his home. The idea being that our loved ones would hide in these hidden rooms if invaders penetrated our defenses.”

“Our Lord is paranoid.”

“Our Lord remembers his growing years all too vividly. Now, pull the red cord for hot water, the blue for cold. Take your time.”

Legolas blinked as the door snicked shut behind him, leaving him in a plushly decorated bathing chamber complete with benches for resting, a skylight of colored glass, and a wide bathing pool. A few cord pulls later had the young prince soaking in a pleasantly hot bath.

Legolas washed quickly, finally leaning his head back against a bathing pillow. He closed his eyes, inhaled, and groaned in frustration. Rather than calm his highly inappropriate reaction, the hot bath filled the air with Glorfindel’s scent, rendering him painfully aroused. // Grandfather would be apoplectic if he knew I was lusting after ‘one of those bloody-minded Noldo’.//

He sighed and reached down. For once, his age worked in his favor. Glorfindel believed his embarrassment stemmed from innocence. Which was just fine with Legolas. He did not dare to think of Glorfindel’s reaction if he knew his horny young apprentice had been fantasizing about him for years now.

In the sleeping chamber, Glorfindel shook his head and smiled, remembering his own, equally traumatic awakening to the needs of his flesh. // At least here, such liaisons between two ellyn are not entirely forbidden.// He thought back to his youth in the Forbidden City, when he and his dark-haired lover risked discovery with every flirtatious look and covert touch.

As was his nightly ritual, Glorfindel stepped out onto his balcony, looked up at the stars, and cast his thoughts to the wind. // I miss you.//  
No response. Not that he had really expected one anymore. The fountain in his heart no longer flowed, and had not done so for an Age.

***

That night and the morning after found both master and apprentice in unusually irritable moods. Neither elf got much accomplished, much to the dismay of Legolas’ instructors and Glorfindel’s second in command.

Erestor walked up to stand beside Glorfindel, his hand resting on the warrior’s side. For a time they stood in silence, Glorfindel watching the training warriors (one small, blond ellon in particular), and Erestor watching Glorfindel watching the training apprentice.

Finally, Glorfindel sighed. “I miss him.”

Erestor bowed his head. “So do I, Cousin.” He blinked back tears. “Tomorrow is his begetting day. Shall we spend it together in remembrance?”

Glorfindel inhaled deeply. “Nay. It is time to stop living in the past, Erestor. I keep him in my heart, but it is time to look forward, not back.” Ignoring the shocked silence, he walked toward the stables.

Legolas watched his Captain walk away, his distraction nearly getting him beheaded. He mumbled his apologies to his sparring partner and walked toward the silent Erestor, wondering what Glorfindel had said to put such a look of devastation on the councilor’s face. “Councilor? Are you alright?”

Erestor blinked for a long moment, and then sneered. “Mind your business, whelp. You are NOTHING compared to him.” He stormed off in a flurry of robes, leaving a baffled Legolas behind.

***

For nearly a month, Legolas puzzled over Erestor’s parting shot. He was nothing compared to whom? Certainly he was no swordsman, but Legolas had a suspicion that it was not his skill with the blade Erestor was referring to.

Finally, Legolas was left with no other choice. “Captain?”

Glorfindel looked over, fingers unweaving the braids from his hair. “Hm?”

“Captain, Councilor Erestor said something, and I am confused.”

Glorfindel paused. “Oh?”

“It was the day you and he had that disagreement on the practice field. He told me that I was ‘nothing compared to him.’ Who was he referring to?”

His Captain sighed. “His cousin, Ecthelion.”

Legolas blinked. “THE Ecthelion? Of the Fountain?”

Glorfindel’s eyes were sad. “Aye. The three of us were raised together.”

“Oh.” He frowned. “Why would he make such a comparison? Of course I am no comparison to the Fountain at swordplay.”

Glorfindel rubbed at his eyes. “You are not. However, he feels you are trying to erase Ecthelion’s memory.”

“What? Why would he think that?”

“Because until he died, Ecthelion and I were lovers.”

Legolas bowed his head. “Oh. I am sorry for your loss, then.” He puzzled. “I still do not understand.”

The elder elf sighed. “Suffice it to say, Erestor sees what is not there, and wishes to preserve his cousin’s memory.” He stood and entered the bathing chamber, ending the conversation.

Legolas climbed into bed, puzzling over his predicament.

***

By morning, he had come to a decision. Determined to beard the warg in its den, as his grandfather would say, Legolas headed for the Library.

Erestor looked up as Legolas entered, and glared. “A bit far from the practice fields, are you not? Or did you get lost?”

Legolas refused to take the bait. “I need to speak with you, please.”

Erestor sniffed and turned back to his work. “As you can see, I am busy.”

Legolas took the quill. “You will want to hear what I have to say, Councilor.”

Brow arching, Erestor led the young elf into his office. “You have two minutes.”

“I only need one of them. You win, Councilor.”

Erestor blinked, thrown by the cryptic statement. “I win? What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, Councilor, that I refuse to allow you to use Ecthelion’s memory to hurt him anymore. “

Erestor glared. “How dare you even utter his name! You are-“

Legolas sighed. “I know, I know, I am nothing compared to him. But I fail to comprehend why you are torturing his lover by accusing him of an infidelity he has not committed.”

“You know nothing! The two of them were a thing of beauty to behold.”

“I know that you have despised me from the moment I rode in. I know you refuse to let Glorfindel move on because YOU cannot move on. And I know that I have already spoken with Lord Elrond, and in the morning, I will be riding to Lothlorien. So, as I said, you win.”

He turned to leave.

“Good luck, Prince Legolas.”

Legolas turned, unable to hide his shock.

For the first time in Legolas’ memory, Erestor’s gaze held no rancor. “I have seen you watching the archery practices. Lothlorien is a good choice. You should be more at home in the trees, and Haldir will be a good mentor for you.”

“How do you know I will be assigned to this Haldir?”

“I do not. But I highly recommend him. His brothers Orophin and Rumil would also be good mentors, if Haldir is unavailable.”

Legolas inclined his head. “With all due respect, while I appreciate your suggestions, I trust you will understand if I do not take your suggestions entirely to heart.”

Erestor blinked, then snorted. “Of course. I would worry for Mirkwood’s future if you had.”

Legolas smiled faintly. “Well then. Good luck to you as well, and… consider getting help with your grief. If your cousin was truly an elf deserving of such intense devotion, he would not want his loved ones to be forever mired in the past.” He closed the door quietly, leaving Erestor alone with his thoughts and his grief.

The rest of the day, Legolas kept as close to Glorfindel as possible, savoring their last hours. Evening turned to night, and then it was time to retire.

As if he sensed the change in the air, Glorfindel changed their routine, pulling Legolas onto his lap and brushing his hair slowly. “So, were you planning to tell me you were reassigned, or would I have found out in the morning when you left?”

Legolas bowed his head. “I was planning to tell you tonight.”

“Mmm. May I ask why you requested this?”

Legolas smiled, taking a moment to lean back against him. “Well, we both know I am a poor swordsman. I truly appreciate how much effort you have put into my training, but… I suspect archery is where my true fate lies, and next to my own archers, Lothlorien boasts the most skilled.”

“And perhaps Haldir or one of his brothers will come with a less messy history.”

Legolas sighed. “And that.”

“Then I am sorry you feel the only way to escape is by leaving.”

Legolas was quiet for a long moment. “Captain?”

“I believe, under the circumstances, it is acceptable to call me by my name.”

Legolas smiled and looked up. “Glorfindel, then. I need to know…was Erestor right?”

“Go to sleep, young prince. Tomorrow will be a long day.”

Legolas sighed and crawled into his bed. That was as good an answer as any, he supposed.

***

As planned, the next morning saw Legolas riding away from Elrond’s stronghold. Before rounding the bend to go north toward the Redhorn, Legolas looked back to the two elves standing at the gate, one dark as night, the other bright as the morning sun. // That must have been how it was in the beginning.//

It was nearly a full Age before Legolas saw Glorfindel again. In that time he did indeed blossom as an archer under Haldir’s tutelage. The warden of the northern fences was as exacting as any of Mirkwood’s commanders, and Legolas’ skill with the bow and arrow became legendary.

He returned home to heed the call to arms against Sauron in the Last Alliance. He sought in vain for glimpses of his golden haired Captain, but soon became distracted by the horrors of war. He grieved with his people at the loss of his Grandfather and rallied the remnants of his army.

He did indeed keep in mind the many things Glorfindel taught him, depending on the skill of his warriors and the strength of their loyalty to keep his lands safe from the vile spiders infesting the once beautiful forests.

Legolas jumped at the opportunity when Mirkwood’s presence was requested at Elrond’s Council. Thranduil shook his head in amusement, kissed his little Prince’s brow, and warned him to be careful in his journeys.

Three weeks and three days later, Legolas rode along the rocky trail that led to the front court of the Last Homely House of Elrond Peredhel, which once again seemed prepared for war. He was hit by an overwhelming sense of déjà vu as he steered his mount toward the lone dark-haired elf on the steps

“Mae govannen, Prince Legolas.” Erestor bowed politely. “You are –“

Legolas snorted. “I know. I am late.”

Erestor cracked a smile. “Actually, your punctuality has improved over the years. You are early.”

Legolas dismounted. “Oh my, have I actually managed to live up to your standards, Councilor?”

Erestor snorted. “Impudent as always. Follow me.” He led the way into the House. “There will be a sort of meet and greet thing this evening, so I suspect you will wish to bathe and freshen yourself?”

“Please.” Legolas’s eyes were caught by a peculiar knot in the braiding of Erestor’s hair. “I see congratulations are in order?”

Erestor blinked. “Pardon?”

“You have taken a mate since we last spoke.”

There was a light in Erestor’s eyes. “Aye, you will meet her this evening. She has finally recovered from birthing our first elfling.” He laughed at Legolas’ shock. “Well, I took your advice, found someone to help me move past my grief… and then married her.”

Legolas opened and shut his mouth like a drowning fish. “So… are you the only one to move on?”

Erestor was quiet. “That, young prince, you will need to decide for yourself.” He opened the door, shoved Legolas inside, and shut it. He pocketed the key and strolled toward the Healing wing, humming merrily.

Legolas blinked and tested the door, surprised to find it locked. “Of all the absurd – ERESTOR!” He pounded on the wood.

“Legolas?”

He spun, confronted with a scene right out of his fantasies.

Glorfindel stood, golden hair and golden skin glowing in the sunlight filtering through the window. “Legolas.”

Legolas turned politely, giving the elder elf his privacy. “I apologize, Captain. Erestor locked the door.”

Fabric shushed behind him. “Quite alright. You caught me preparing to take my bath. Join me?”

Legolas blinked and turned, trying not to think about how little Glorfindel’s towel actually covered. “Join you?”

Glorfindel gestured toward the door. “The pool is big enough for two.”

Completely off-balance now, Legolas could only nod and follow his former mentor into the bath. He pulled his clothes off and eased into the heated water. He closed his eyes and rested his head back on the bath pillow, listening to the soft splash of Glorfindel’s entrance.

He sighed quietly as his body gave its predictable response. // Well, I certainly cannot blame THIS on youthful hormones and adrenaline.//

The feel of soft lips against his startled Legolas out of his thoughts. He blinked up in shock. “Wh-what are you doing?”

Glorfindel’s smile dripped sex. “Something I have wanted to do since I first found you asleep in my bed.”

“What about Ecthelion?”

Glorfindel pressed closer, their bodies touching from broad chest to hard thigh. “You were very right when you told Erestor he would not want his loved ones to mourn him for long. Knowing him, he would be knocking our heads and demanding to know why we mourned as long as we did. He loved life, not death.”

Legolas panted softly. “He sounds like a very wise e-” He groaned as Glorfindel’s lips cut him off, warm and sweet. He sighed into the kiss, returning it as his hands wandered.

Glorfindel purred and deepened the kiss, pulling Legolas’ legs around his hips and rocking against him. He reached for a vial.

Legolas writhed, tugging on blond hair insistently while Glorfindel prepared him. “Don’t use all of it!”

He groaned. “Why?”

“Because THIS will be mine!” He smacked a firm cheek.

“Plenty where that came from,” Glorfindel reassured him, gripping his hips and sliding home with a confident thrust.

Legolas arched and cried out.

Concerned eyes peered into his. “Alright?”

“Were you this cruel with Ecthelion?” Legolas groaned and squirmed, trying to get the necessary leverage to make his Captain get ON with it!

“Worse.”

Legolas arched and panted. This was promising to be a very looong night!

***

Just before dinner, Erestor unlocked Glorfindel’s door and peeked in. He smiled at the mass of tangled limbs and sunny hair on the bed. By the looks of the room, these two had wasted little time getting reacquainted.

Erestor left as quietly as he had come, making a mental note to have Elrond’s council moved to late tomorrow. He doubted Mirkwood’s representative would be rising before mid-day…

 

~~Fin~~~


End file.
